


Can't Argue With Those Heartlines

by tygermine



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-05
Updated: 2012-10-05
Packaged: 2017-11-15 16:59:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/529514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tygermine/pseuds/tygermine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione and Draco have a run in five years after getting divorced. Pools, Champagne and Miscommunication.<br/>Written for Dramione Duet 2012</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't Argue With Those Heartlines

 

When Blaise Zabini got married, which was often, he really made it an affair to remember.

 

He had hired out an old manor house in Sussex, apparently used when the Muggles filmed a new version of Pride and Prejudice. His fiancée was a huge fan of Muggle films and waxed lyrical about the house until Blaise relented and hired it for the big day.

 

The rooms had been allocated to various guests, the ball room and gardens set up for the event of the year, according to _Witch Weekly_.

 

Hermione had not expected an invitation and was surprised when the owl had landed on her window sill carrying the small card.

 

And here she was, sipping on a champagne cocktail, tugging at her dress. It wasn’t uncomfortable, per se; it just seemed to think that climbing her legs was what it was designed for. The dark purple set off her amber curls and honey coloured eyes perfectly, or at least, that’s what Ginny said when they went shopping and she tried it on.

 

It behaved itself perfectly for a dress until she had spotted her ex husband in the wedding party. He was once again Blaise’s best man and dammit, did he look handsome in his morning suit.

 

Draco Malfoy stood at the dais with Blaise, watching the guests enter and take their seats. He spotted Hermione creep in moments before the bride and couldn’t keep his eyes off her the entire time. He even fumbled the ring exchange. He had not seen her since their divorce was finalised before the Wizengamot five years before. And she looked radiant. Why couldn’t his ex wife get fat and ugly like other ex wives?

 

The ceremony flew by and it seemed seconds had passed before they were gathering in the manor gardens sipping on champagne cocktails complimenting the bride’s dress and the good taste in flowers.

 

Draco’s tie was choking him and the champagne seemed to settle in his throat. The entire day reminded him so much of his own wedding. The splendor, the glamour, the smiles, fights, death threats and tears at the end.

 

After his traditional best man speech, which he is sure was the same one he used at Blaise’s second wedding, he needed some air and snuck out of the ballroom.

 

The garden had a hedge maze which was all the rage when that fool Henry ruled the Muggles and they seemed to have kept the tradition. Draco usually hated them, but knew it was the best place to avoid the eventual drunken madness that would descend on the guests.

 

He followed the maze until he came to a clearing with a bench.

 

It was occupied by a woman in a dark purple dress. He decided to sit next to her.

 

“When did you start smoking?” he asked, settling down.

 

Hermione jumped in surprise and coughed on the smoke while scowling at Draco.

 

“The day I signed my divorce papers,” she said taking another drag. The box sat between her and Draco and he helped himself to one.

 

“Detestable habit, I know,” she said. ”What can I say, smart, but not that smart.”

 

“Don’t knock that brain of yours,” he replied after taking a drag. “It’s smarter than most.”

 

Hermione huffed a laugh. “This isn’t awkward at all,” she smiled.

 

“If a divorced couple can’t share a hidden smoke break, then the world should end,” Draco smiled.

 

Hermione hated herself a little when her breath caught at the sight of him. She turned her gaze back to the garden, finishing her cigarette and killing it in the gravel path.

 

They sat in silence for a few minutes, the sounds of the reception drifting in the afternoon breeze.

 

“Why did we get divorced?” Draco asked suddenly. “I know why, I just, I wonder sometimes how we got to that point.”

 

“I wonder the same thing sometimes. Then I remember all the birthdays you missed because you had to Portkey to Japan or Switzerland for a meeting that couldn’t wait. I think, in the end, I was the only one in the marriage. It’s lonely being married to you, Draco.”

 

“What is the statute of limitations on apologies for asshole ex husbands?”

 

“About five years,” she said.

 

“Oh good, I can squeeze mine in.” Draco bows his head.

 

“Accepted. Funny how it only took us five years to get to this point.”

 

“We were too young. Ambitious. Headstrong.”

 

“Delusional,” she added.

 

“In love,” he corrected

 

“Same thing,” she shrugged.

 

A few more minutes of silence passed.

 

“So, how’s uh…whatshername?” Hermione asked.

 

“Not sure. Last I heard, she was in Rio.” Draco answered, fingers itching for another cigarette.

 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Hermione said.

 

“No you’re not.” He took two cigarettes out and lit them both, handing one to Hermione.

 

“I’m not, but it’s still polite to ask.”

 

“And you’re always polite.”

 

“My parents raised me well.”

 

“So did mine,” Draco eyed her, daring her to make a comment. She kept quiet and took a drag of her cigarette. Under the smoky scent, he could still smell her. The jasmine sweetness she could never lose, the citrus tang of her shampoo, the scents that reminded him of home. Happiness. Promise.

 

She’d cut her hair, it now brushed her ears, curling around the lobes and into the small platinum and diamond earrings he’d given her their first Christmas together. Her skin was no longer a desk clerk pale, but a burnished gold from hours spent in the sun.

 

“Are you enjoying your job?’ he asked suddenly.

 

She started a slight tensing of her shoulders. Hermione nodded. “It was the best decision I’ve ever made.”

 

“Yes, I can imagine digging up ancient gravesites can be quite rewarding.”

 

“I give those people a final resting place, not some pit dug out by terrorists.”

 

“I never said your job was pointless.”

 

“You implied it with that sodding Malfoy tone. See, this is why I didn’t tell you about the offer! You would have sneered and pulled that face, the one you have now, and said something about me being an over qualified grave robber.”

 

“I-“

 

“Don’t insult me by trying to deny it. You never understood why I needed to do it and you never bothered to figure it out.”

 

Her face was flushed, her chest heaving behind the expensive looking dress, pushing her breasts enticingly upwards, towards him. He always loved her in a snit. Especially when she rode him like a horse in bed, still swearing at him for being a louse.

 

“I wasn’t going to deny it. You’re a brilliant witch and yet you choose to work as a Muggle forensic anthropologist. You could have made a name in potions for yourself.”

 

“And there you go, assuming my dreams and not trying to understand.”

 

“And what, exactly, must I understand about my wife’s passion to dig up bones in the dirt all day?”

 

“And that’s why I’m your ex wife, you pillock!” 

 

Hermione stood up, grabbed her clutch and stormed out of the clearing. Well, as elegantly as her high heels and the gravel path would allow her.

 

 _I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave,_ Draco thought to himself with a shake of his head.

 

**

 

Harry found Hermione propping up the bar when he went to get a refill on his Firewhiskey. By the look on his friend’s face, he knew she’d run into Draco.

 

With a smile, he propped her up on a barstool and beckoned the barman.

 

“Another fruity…whatever that is,” he pointed to her empty glass. “And a Firewhiskey. And keep them coming.”

 

**

 

Draco sat at a table, nursing a Firewhiskey and glaring at the dance floor. Theo Nott dropped into a seat close to him and waved his date back towards the dance floor, pointing at his feet and pulling a sad face. She giggled and turned back to the group of bridesmaids and guests doing a Muggle dance called the YMCA. 

 

Theo leaned over and clapped Draco on the shoulder.

 

“Who’d have thought we’d see the day Blaise marry a Muggle?” 

 

Draco frowned. “To each their own, I guess.”

 

Theo knocked back his champagne, draining the glass. “I saw Hermione earlier. Why did you ever let her go? She’s a total hottie.”

 

“Yeah, hot tempered on a pair of hot legs.”

 

“Too much for you Malfoy?”

 

Draco leaned closer. “Theo, maybe you can explain this to me. Why would someone with a serious case of the bleeding heart choose to spend all day digging up graves?”

 

Theo was quiet for a moment and when he leaned closer, he seemed to have sobered up a bit. “The war left a lot of bodies without graves, Draco. Maybe someone with a bleeding heart wants to make sure everyone is at peace in their rightful grave so that they won’t haunt her. Especially someone who carries as much guilt over every death as the hero himself.”

 

“No more champagne for you,” Draco pulled the empty glass to the side. “It makes you far too wise.”

 

Before Theo could reply, his date dragged him back onto the dance floor for a ridiculous Muggle dance called the Macarena.

 

**

 

Hermione was drunk. Very, very drunk. She hated being drunk, but the cocktails had that sweetness that seemed to chase away the bitterness her argument with Draco left in her mouth.

 

“Such a sodding wanker,” she slurred, leaning heavily against Harry, who was a little worse for the Firewhiskey himself.

 

“Who?” he blinked a few times, trying to get Hermione to stop being a blur. Maybe his specs needed cleaning.

 

“Draco,” she spat. “Five years. Five sodding years and he’s still got his nose in the air about my job.” She clumsily reached for another drink, almost knocking the glass over. “I do good, honest work.”

 

“Absolutely,” Harry took off his glasses, polished them with a linen napkin and put them back on. He then squinted. Obviously the cleaning hadn’t helped and Hermione was still a bit blurry.

 

“It’s ok for him to bugger off all over the world doing business, but I want to go to Syria for a few months and he freaks out? Ergh. I hate his stupid face. He has such a nice smile. See?”

 

Hermione was pointing at Draco’s face as it appeared over Harry’s shoulder.

 

“I’m glad to hear my smile still has some effect on you.”

 

“Bugger off, Draco, can’t you see I’m chatting to Harry.”

 

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist.”

 

“Don’t for one second think you have any effect on my knickers,” she sneered and tripped, grabbing onto the bar to steady herself.

 

“Oh, I recall some fond effects I had on your knickers, especially their disappearing act.”

 

“Now, Malfoy, don’t you thi-“

 

“Shut up Potter,” the former Mr and Mrs Malfoy snapped at him.

 

“Thank goodness I realised in time what a selfish person you were before we really got serious.” Hermione reached for her glass, but Draco plucked it off the bar, her hand following the movement.

 

“Oh, so wedding vows aren’t serious enough for you? Should have known. Would have saved me a fortune.”

 

Hermione lashed out and slapped him across the face, catching Harry’s nose.

 

“OW!” Harry cried and sank to the floor.

 

“See what you made me do?” she shouted at Draco and knelt down to pick Harry up and led him into the ballroom where Ginny was dancing with Luna.

 

Blaise appeared at Draco’s side as he watched them hobble away.

 

“You couldn’t keep your domestic issues at home, could you?” Blaise said lightly, sipping some champagne.

 

“You invited her, you bell end.” Draco sneered and stalked off into the garden.

 

**

 

After depositing Harry with Ginny, Hermione wandered around the manor house, still somewhat drunk. She stumbled slightly in her heels and ran her fingers along the soft material covering the walls. A wooden door with glass windows caught her eye at the end of a long passage. Kicking off her shoes, she made her way up to it and pushed it open. 

 

The room had a glass ceiling and an Olympic sized pool. The water threw up golden reflections of the sun against the walls, reminding Hermione of the aquarium she had seen as a child.

 

She dipped a toe into the water, it was warmer than she expected, before sinking onto a deck chair with a sigh.

 

Getting drunk was not the best way to handle Draco, but dammit, why couldn’t he look less appealing than he did when they first got together. 

 

_Pansy had run into Hermione in Diagon Alley on Saturday morning while shopping for birthday decorations._

 

_“I just hate organising parties. Why can’t Narsissa hire some party planner,” Pansy had groused_

_while idly flipping through ribbon samples._

 

_Hermione had been looking for some chocolate moulds for Molly and had inadvertently wandered into the conversation._

 

_“Say, Hermione, you’re a smart witch,” Blaise had turned to her with that blinding trademark smile. “What do you think? Green or yellow?”_

 

_Pansy rolled her eyes and nudged Blaise in the ribs._

 

_“Uh,” Hermione’s brain hiccupped for a second. “Green?”_

 

_“Perfect!” Blaise said and took a few rolls of the green ribbon before enfolding her arms in the crook of his elbow. “You’re a natural at this.” He then dragged Hermione through the rest of the store, asking her advice on everything, including the cake itself. Red velvet, just because she liked it and didn’t care if Malfoy didn’t as it wasn’t her responsibility to arrange his damned party anyway._

 

_Blaise paid for all the supplies while looking around for Pansy who had slunk out earlier muttering something about nails and ravishing red being perfect._

 

_Hermione blinked, trying to remember what she had originally wanted in the store when Blaise turned to her, leaning a hip against the counter._

 

_“You should come,” he said._

 

_“Come?”_

 

_“To the party. It’s a surprise bash we’re throwing Draco for his 21 st. And you know what they say…”_

 

_“Slytherin’s need more friends?”_

 

_“The more the merrier,” Blaise poked her lightly on the tip of her nose. “I’ll owl you an invitation.”_

 

_Hermione spent the rest of the day trying to figure out where she’d gone wrong to end up being invited to Malfoy’s 21 st._

 

_The party was three days later at Blaise’s estate. Hermione had arrived late, running into Draco as he was walking up the drive to the front door._

 

_“What are you doing here?” he sneered._

 

_“I was invited.”_

 

_“Blaise invited you to go to the strip club tonight?”_

 

_“I’m an open minded witch,” she replied._

 

_“My arse,” he huffed a laugh._

 

_“Listen here Malfoy,” they had reached the door and had turned to face each other. “I have been to plenty of strip clubs in my life.”_

 

_“Please, pull the other one,” he crossed his arms and arched an eyebrow._

 

_“Why, just last weekend, Ron and I…”_

 

_“Weasley? In a strip club? What sort of establishment allows that…wait; you were at the Spearmint Rhino, weren’t you?”_

 

_“The what?”_

 

_“Ah ha! See, you have never been to a strip club. Now honestly, why are you here?”_

 

_“I have my reasons.”_

 

_“Please tell me it’s not because Blaise knocked you up,” Draco reached for the door handle and pushed it open._

 

_“Don’t be stupid; one would need to have sex in order to fall pregnant.” The ‘t’ stuttered off Hermione’s tongue as she realised the entire party was gathered in the hallway to yell surprise and had heard her comment._

 

_“Surprise!” Pansy yelled from the staircase. Theo tittered behind his hand._

 

_The silence was thick with awkwardness. Someone in the back shuffled and sniffed. Blaise shook his head and took a few steps towards him._

 

_“Thank you for distracting Draco, Hermione.” He said, grabbing Draco and dragging him to the bar. This seemed to snap the rest of the guests out of their stupor and soon the party was in full swing._

 

_Hermione hid in a dark corner down by the pool, nursing a stolen bottle of champagne and her bruised pride. Why oh why did she always put her foot in it when Draco was around. He made her feel unbalanced, foolish and just like she had felt in fourth year. You’re supposed to grow out of that phase, but for Hermione, when it came to men, she’d always be that awkward 14 year old girl._

 

_Draco appeared from the shadows, tall, short, spiked hair and his hands in his pockets._

 

_“Go away Draco, can’t you see I’m busy?”_

 

_He arched an eyebrow. “Why don’t you join the party?”_

 

_“Yeah, I want to spend the rest of the night hearing the giggles and gossip about me.” She huffed and took another swig of the champagne. The fizz of the bubbles calmed her._

 

_“They’ve already forgotten about your faux pas. Although, I have to say, that was another one to add to the Hermione collection of stupid things said.”_

 

_“Malfoy, I know it’s your party, but please, bugger off.”_

 

_Draco was quiet, eyeing the pool. After a few minutes, he pulled off his shirt._

 

_Hermione choked on her tongue. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”_

 

_He pulled down his jeans. “Having a swim. Perfect weather for it. Wanna join me?”_

 

_Hermione forgot how to breathe. Standing in only his batman boxer shorts, he was all lean muscle and flat planes. Hermione suddenly felt fat, despite the little black dress she was wearing._

 

_She shook her head._

 

_“Fine,” he shrugged and dove in, causing a large wave of water to splash close enough to her that she was splattered._

 

_“You wanker,” she muttered angrily and drank some more champagne._

 

_She watched Draco surface and swim the length of the pool. Hermione felt her nipples harden and her heartbeat pick up._

 

_Since when had Malfoy become so good looking? Taking another sip of courage, she stood up, kicked off her shoes and stepped towards the edge of the pool. She knelt down and ran her fingers through the water. Hermione did not notice the shadow swimming towards her and within a few seconds, arms flew out of the water, wrapped around her waist and pulled her into the pool._

 

_She surfaced spluttering, a deep chuckle in her ear._

 

_“Malfoy, what the fuck was that. Now my hair and my dress are ruined.”_

 

_His arms tightened around her waist, pulling her closer to him. “Your dress can be saved. Your hair was beyond help years ago.”_

 

_She shoved at him, but his grip hardened until she was forced to look up at him. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes that sent shivers across her skin._

 

_Without a word, he lowered his head, brushing his lips against hers._

 

_She licked her lips, catching his, pulling a groan from him. His hands ran down her back to her bum, cupping it and pulling her closer, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist._

 

_He parted his lips and ran his tongue along hers, probing at her tongue, massaging it, pulling it towards his mouth until their lips met in a proper, full kiss._

 

_His hands massaged her bum, fingers pushing at the elastic of her knickers, exposing more skin. She ground against his groin, feeling him grow hard against her, just two thin layers of wet cotton separating them._

 

_Draco broke the kiss and leaned into her neck whispering._

 

_“You feel amazing against my cock. I don’t know where I want to stick it more, your pussy,” he pushed his cock harder against her. “Or your mouth.” He raised his head and nipped at her lips._

 

_“Where do you want it, Hermione?” he asked, watching her face._

 

_“Gnuh” she choked out, her arms a vice around his neck, her legs releasing and tightening around him. He slid his fingers further into her knickers and pulled the material away from her skin. She gasped as the cool water rushed against her hot lips._

 

_“Drop your legs Granger,” Draco instructed. She ignored him. He pulled his hips as far away as her grip could allow._

 

_He ran his hands along her thighs back towards her ankles and grabbing one in each, unhooked them from around him. She whimpered as she was forced to stand._

 

_“Patience, you,” he said, dropping a kiss to her cheek before pushing her panties to her ankles. Taking a deep breath, he dove under the water and pressed his mouth to her pussy. He blew out bubbles against her and smiled at her nails scrabbling along his scalp for purchase._

 

_He surfaced and kissed her._

 

_“Did you like that?”_

 

_Hermione pushed at his shoulders in response. “Yes. Yes. More. Just don’t drown yourself.”_

 

_Draco chuckled and dove back down to blow more bubbles against her clit._

 

_As he surfaced he could hear her babbling. “Investing in a spa bath from now on…”_

 

_He hauled her against him and she automatically wrapped her legs around his waist, leaving his hands free to roam. Draco ran his fingertips across and around her already hard nipples, pinching them softly enjoying the moans he pulled from her. She ran her fingers across his chest, relishing in the shivers that ran through his body as she teased his nipples. She ran her hand across his stomach, feeling the muscles ripple in response until she reached the elastic band of his boxers. She reached inside, and grabbed his cock, causing his hips to piston against her, pushing the elastic band down to hug his balls against his groin._

 

_With a slight twist of her wrist and a tightening of her legs, she pulled herself up, causing his lips to pop off her nipple and held him against her entrance._

 

_“Now?” he asked against her breastbone, his breath sending Goosebumps along her skin._

 

_She nodded and with another rotation of his hips, he slid into her._

 

_They both gasped as she stretched to accommodate him and with a sigh, she sank onto him further._

 

_She lowered her head and caught his lips in a sloppy kiss, humming as he began to thrust, building the heat and friction between them. Her back hit the tiled wall of the pool and he grabbed onto the edge for leverage._

 

_She met him, thrust for thrust, pushing forwards to meet him._

 

_“H…har…fuck…harder,” she gasped._

 

_Draco grunted and sped up, the power of his thrusts growing until with one last push that brushed her cervix, she came, her shouts swallowed by his lips. Pumping a few more times, he shuddered against her, and as he came, he bit her lower lip._

 

_Hermione gulped for air and slumped against him, the wall of the pool the only thing preventing them from sinking below the surface._

 

In hindsight, Hermione should have fought him off a little harder, maybe thrown in a classic slap across the face, but in the end they had to rescue her dress from the pool pump where it was clogging the pipe that had sucked it up, ruining it. They had then Apparated to his flat and didn’t leave his bed for the rest of the weekend.

 

Six months later they’d married. An event that was still held as the measuring bar for any other wedding.

 

Two years later they signed the divorce papers.

 

Hermione sighed, wishing she’d brought a bottle of champagne with her.

 

“What is it with you and swimming pools at parties,” Draco said softly from the doorway.

 

“Oh my god, Draco, can’t I get a minute to myself?” she fisted her hands and punched the cushions of the deck chair.

 

“You’ve had five years to yourself.”

 

“Five years is not long enough away from you,” she snapped.

 

Draco flinched. She had never seen him do that before and the sudden guilt that flooded her stomach made her want to take back the poisonous words.

 

“I’m sorry, that was out –“

 

“It was the truth.” Hesitantly, he sat down next to her. “I never seem to win with you.”

 

“What do you mean?” she couldn’t look him in the eye, choosing to concentrate on her fingers as they twisted the hem of her dress, wrinkling the fabric.

 

“I wasn’t good enough in school. I did everything I could to make up for those fuck ups and then I spent the rest of my time trying to give you the life you deserve and it just gets thrown in my face. You’re just never happy.”

 

“You’re wrong Draco. You never thought you were good enough. I was happy with us. With what we had. You were the one always off making deals, bringing in money. All the diamonds in the world didn’t make up for going to bed alone. You lost sight of that.”

 

“I know. I realised that after. And I tried to contact you, but you never returned my owls, you disappeared.”

 

“I was working,” she snapped.

 

“Touché. Can I tell you something?” he watched her closely.

 

“Sure,” she shrugged.

 

“If you had actually asked me, I would have gone with.”

 

With a growl, Hermione flew from her seat and went to stand at the edge of the pool, hugging herself.

 

“Liar,” she said. 

 

He followed her, pulling a piece of paper from his back pocket. Wordlessly, he handed it to her.

 

It was a Portkey ticket to her dig site out in Syria. She read it without a sound before grunting in frustration and pushing him into the pool.

 

Draco surfaced spluttering.

 

“What the hell was that for?” 

 

Hermione arched an eyebrow. “You couldn’t have shown this to me before?”

 

“I was going to surprise you,” Draco grumbled, treading water towards the steps. She met him there and as he pulled himself level with her, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, pushing them both back into the pool.

 

They broke the surface surrounded by bubbles.

 

“Honestly woman, what is it with you and swimming pools?” he asked, stroking a hand across her sodden curls.

 

“You’re an arse, you know that?”

 

“Noted.” he pressed a kiss to her lips.

 

“This doesn’t mean I forgive you.”

 

He nodded and kissed her again.

 

“And trying to silence me with kisses isn’t going to work. We have a lot to tal-mpfff.”

 

Draco kissed her deeply, capturing her tongue with his lips. When he felt that she’d been kissed speechless, he cupped her breast and using his thumb, he lightly stroked it.

 

“I’m sorry, okay, I’m sorry I ignored you. And mocked your job. And if you only ask, I’ll join you anywhere in the world.” He placed a tender kiss on her forehead. “I can’t go another 5 years without you. Hell, another five minutes would be too long.”

 

_Please say yes. Please say yes. Please._

 

He slid his fingers along the seam of her panties, teasing her.

 

“I don’t…gnnn…don’t want to…ohmigod…to…to have to ask you, Draco. You…aaaahhhh….you must want to be with me, regardless. Now fucking kiss me, dammit.”

 

“That’s what I just said,” Draco said before capturing her in a kiss that he hoped told her all she needed to know. No matter where she went, he’d be there. 

 

At her side. Where he belonged.

 

The End

 

 


End file.
